Dear Harry
by Whitefeather
Summary: Dumbledore writes one final letter to Harry on the night he knows will end his life. Upon writing it, he realizes that Harry is more to him but can he stand to give Harry hope, to have it come crashing down?


Dear Harry

AN:  This idea came to me when I was thinking about a fic I want to write, called Seven Days in Heaven.  Anyone interested?  It's about a potions accident gone wrong.  Now Harry has seven days to live with the two parents he's never had, and to experience a lifetime of a family in one week.  

Dedicated to Phil, one of my friends, who I was talking to when I wrote this.  Good luck in college!    

Usual disclaimers apply.     

** 

Dear Harry, 

            We know there is not much time, so I will write this letter in haste.  Though all do not agree, I feel the need to write you and inform you of what is to come in the next few hours—no matter the outcome, the end of this war rests on your shoulders.  And knowing that, the Order will do everything in its power to lessen your journey and suffering and make a path for you to Voldemort.  

            There are many things I must tell you in this letter.  Most of them, unfortunately, will carry news most unfortunate—so I must beg you to read it fully, and not make judgments until it is complete.  

            As you probably got the idea from the muggle news, Azkaban was broken open last night; for what will be the final time.  With the help of Bellatrix Lestrange alone Voldemort was able to overtake guards at the doors, killing most but taking a number of the Order prisoner.  Sadly, Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt were both in the prison on guard duty when the final blow fell.  Shacklebolt was killed instantly, while Mrs. Lestrange took her time with her niece; Nymphadora is, however, still alive but with the last of Bellatrix's victims at the moment in St. Mungo's.  Due to the mass breakout and sheer monstrosity of the attack, the Ministry has seen fit to close Azkaban for good.  

            We know the escaped Death Eaters to be with Voldemort in Riddle Manor at this point in time.  The remainder of the Order left from Azkaban's attack has gathered and are here right now, awaiting my signal to move out and surround the manor for what will undoubtedly be a deciding battle in this war.  They are expecting us to make our move- we will not disappoint them.  

            Voldemort will be there, Harry; he and I will duel, as we have before.  But this time, I doubt my return.  He is strong, fueled by his recent victory over Azkaban and the unwavering support he has received by the Death Eaters. His powers, I am truly sorry to say, are more than a match for my own.  Even if it wasn't... well, the prophecy said that you would be the one to defeat him, didn't it?  

            You're probably wondering why I go, tonight, to my knowing death.  The answer is that, Harry, I go because I must.  The world... they seem to disbelieve even the Minister of Magic in his admittance that the Dark Lord has indeed returned.  They fear the war that tore their childhoods.  And they have great reason to, my boy; but they must see the truth.  They must know he has returned and fear him—to save their lives.  My death, it will mean the loss of a power head that the people believe in; but it will also save their lives, when they believe in his power and fear him properly.  

            Fear, Harry, is human's greatest asset.  If people did not fear fires, would they take the precautions such as alarms and sprinkler systems to protect themselves and their families?  If wizards did not fear the Ministry's restrictions on youth magic, would the children be cursing everything without a care?  

            If humans did not fear death, then would they ever truly live? 

            Tonight is my last night on Earth.  Have no doubts, however, that I will be watching you until eternity's end.  I told you once, that those we love never truly leave us.  In saying that, I meant that their memories will always live on a bright flame inside of us.  Do you remember the locked door in the Department of Mysteries, Harry?  Inside there, as I told you, is the power that the prophecy mentioned you hold dear.  Of undying compassion, the only thing Lord Voldemort does not understand.  Of _love_, Harry.  

            He cannot understand love, because it was never given to him.  Those who are never loved cannot love in return.  At first I feared for you—you, as he, had no parents, and the care that you had been given into gave even less of an interest.  You two are truly alike, as I am sure you will tire of hearing—you both grew up with nothing, and grew old with even less.  Lord Voldemort's mother died as yours did, his father was gone as yours was gone.  

            You may not know it, but Tom Riddle had one person he cared for in his time at Hogwarts.  During his fifth year, however, that person was killed by Grindelwald; Tom had joined him only a few weeks before, and already he had learned.  He shut down emotionally and gave himself up, much as you did after Sirius' death.  I feared this summer, and I still do—I fear that like him, you will fall.  And I will not be there to catch you.  

            I lost Tom, to a mistake I made—I never told him the truth and I watched him fall, believing it best to stay away.  I will not lose you, Harry.  I will not lose you as I lost my other son.  Even if tonight will be my last night on Earth, I will die smiling knowing that it was indeed my own mistake which cut me down, knowing that you are safe in your bed knowing that your path is clearer.  

            No matter what, you can't stop destiny.  You will defeat him, or he will defeat you.  And I pray it be soon; _neither may live while the other survives.  _He cannot take control while you live and you cannot live your life with him alive.  

            Harry, Voldemort doesn't know love; that is the power the prophecy spoke of.  He will never be able to handle it, or to take it.  I'm not saying you have to love him, Harry.  You will understand when the time comes, I promise; and then it will be hard.  But you will win, or he will.  And it is for everything.    

            I'll always be with you, Harry.  I...  

            ...never mind.  Harry, listen to me.  Don't ever give up on anything.  Life...  it's too short.  Believe in yourself, and live for the moment.  Don't let fear control you.  

            I miss you already, Harry.  

Love, 

Albus Dumbledore          

            PS- Take care of Fawkes for me Harry.  And make your father proud, as I know you've made me.         

_Albus__ Dumbledore smiled, tied the letter to Fawkes' leg, and sent him off with a burst of flame.  While the other members of the Order awaited in the other room, Dumbledore walked to the window, and looked out to the stars he would never see again.  And he knew half a world away, Harry lay asleep on his bed, with no worries in the world.  He spoke to the wind, wishing that it would carry his words to him.     _

_            "What I wanted to say was...I love you Harry.  But I'm sure you already know that."   _ 


End file.
